His Downfall
by SoDunne
Summary: He's known her for years, he's been protective of her for just as long. But it's grown to more. Her ex is back in their lives, and they could get messy just as fast as the return happened. But Roman doesn't care in the slightest. (Updates when inspiration hits)
1. Prologue

_**A/N: Okay, so, new ship — a new otp. lol JoJo and Roman. And another prompt I found on tumblr.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own any of the people in the following story. And what happens in here is just a manifestation of what goes on in my own warped imagination. I use fan-fiction to appease my need for validation *snorts***_

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It's dull at first — a small hum in his heart — he can't pin down the feeling. He's never really put much thought into it. But Roman finds himself attached to her hip more often than not. It was awkward at first because they've both tried to ignore it. Dean was the first to point it out — the unfiltered man was actually the first to point her out — Roman remembers the day clearly in the forefront of his brain.

 _She was just standing there when they passed — her hair curly and wild — looking more nervous than prepared. She was going to open the show by singing the national anthem._

 _"Who's the new chick?" Dean had asked absentmindedly as he, Seth, and Roman sat in catering, just enjoying the peace that came with being unapproachable to everyone else._

 _"JoJo."Roman remembered her from the time Eva had interrupted his work out to introduce themselves to him. He hadn't seen her in person since then. She actively avoided him back the._

He remembers it clearly, the realization that he should have just kept her name to himself, it's been gnawing at the back of his mind since then. Seth wouldn't have broken her. Roman still feels a pinch in his heart whenever he thinks of it — her face being the first he remembers seeing after Seth betrayed him and Dean. JoJo was the first to make sure they weren't suffering.

They learned to take care of each other.

She took her break up with Seth harder than he expected. When they sit together, he can tell she's still unable to stop thinking about that fuck up. It breaks his heart knowing that he's been relegated to friend while Seth still has her heart.

His hand reaches out to tuck a blonde frosted curl behind her ear as she sleeps, wrapped around him. That's what he does — he holds her when she can't sleep — he's there to support and protect her when she wants to cry.

It's not fair.

But no one said it ever would be.

He loves her more than a man should love his (ex) friend's ex. And she's young — God, she's young — Roman reminds himself every day. He can't run from it. But she loves him and he loves her too. They're just different versions of the same feelings — he's positive that he hasn't imagined the last three years of his life. He's pretty sure he's WWE World Heavyweight Champion — he clearly recalls that when as soon as he had passed the curtain, Joseanne had launched herself at him — it's been weeks and he has the belt to prove it.

She's been hiding out with him in his hotel rooms since Seth has returned. The former champion just hangs around backstage, waiting for the okay from management telling him to make himself known to the audience. But she's stayed with Roman. And it's planting small seeds in Roman's head — she could leave him any second. She could go back for another helping of heartbreak if Seth says all the right words. But they're laying together because she wants to prove a point. She wants him to know she's not going to betray him that way. Maybe the reason she thinks his heart would break wouldn't be the same reasons she thinks it would be over, but he appreciates that she doesn't want to hurt him. She's slowly become one of the few people he actually cares about and it's disconcerting to even acknowledge it. He'd tried to tell himself that what he feels for her is completely platonic — that there's some sort of transference happening here — but he's failed, miserably. When she's not around, a piece of him feels like it's missing.

He's lying awake, her arms wrapped around him, listening to her light snores. He has to wake her up soon, they have work in a few hours. It's finally Payback day and JoJo's working as an announcer — she'll get a front row seat to the beating he's going to give AJ Styles. Maybe he may show off a little just to impress her but he'd never admit it.

He rolls over and she's awake, staring at him. Her chocolate eyes are shiny and glassy in the glow of the light coming from the bathroom. He knows her enough to know that she wants to cry. Her finger lazily traces the lines of the tribal artwork of his right arm, and he watches the look on her face shift to worry.

"Hey," his voice is deep, so deep it sends a vibration from his chest to hers. He presses his palm to her face, then moves her hair from her face, "you just woke up and now you already worryin' about summin?" He tries to sound as if he's joking, but he knows this is just how she is. He likes to pretend it's especially for him — but she was the same way over Dean at Wrestlemania 32 — though he knows better.

She cracks her lopsided smile but doesn't look at him, "Shut up. Let me worry about you." He looks at her — thoughts sharing between his grey and her brown eyes — until she's moving to lay on top of him. She's not worried but sad. Sad that he's going to put his body on the line and he'll go under appreciated.

She's so tiny that he barely feels the added weight of her body atop his. Her thighs trap him beneath her as she presses her nose to the middle of his chest, her fingers splayed out other his pectoral muscles. It's an innocent gesture in her mind — at least that's what he thinks — but it doesn't stop his heartbeat from speeding up. She just wants to be close to him without any pressure. She wants to love him. She looks at him and he knows she can feel the beating of his heart. He can hear it in his ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. She sighs and presses her ear over his heart. He looks away because he may explode from the tension.

Before he knows what's happened, she's left a kiss on his jaw and rolled off him. He searches the room for her — his large hand reaching out to find her — then he hears water running and the familiar sound of her singing in the shower. She left the door open. But it's not an invitation, she just takes long showers and he still has to use the bathroom. He thinks that maybe she knows he wants her so she's teasing him. Or maybe it's her young age that makes her blind to him.

Or maybe he's built something in his mind that will never happen.

His phone buzzes on the nightstand and it's Nikki telling him Dean broke his phone —doing only God knows what — and to meet them at the All-State Arena before Payback. He simply replies with an okay. Nikki's been back for a month and it's like she never left.

He takes JoJo because, why not? She disappears before he can tell her that he'll be with Dean.

His best friend is jokingly lifting Nikki — his girlfriend for about as long as he's known her — in the air, threatening to drop her when Roman arrives.

"She just got back and you already trying to kill her, Ambrose?" He makes himself known and Nikki is out of Dean's arms, launching herself at him from the apron. He catches her easily and she's hugging him like she hasn't seen him in years. "Hey to you too."

She stands on her feet and swats him, "Don't act like you didn't want to see me."

Dean swings his feet under the bottom rope and smiles at him — happy Roman gets along with his girlfriend despite his new shitty attitude with everyone who isn't a little, 5 foot two, Joseanne Offerman. He knows his best friend like the back of his hand. He can tell the Samoan champ is having a hard time with something he hasn't shared yet. But he won't push it. Not yet. Not when Nikki is there to scold him.

"What?" Roman asks, already knowing that Dean is thinking about something.

"Why does there always have to be a reason I'm looking at you?" Dean asks, smiling amusedly.

Rolling his eyes, Roman scoffs, "You right, I'm just that beautiful."

"You got it Rome."

"You guys are doing the thing again." Nikki chuckles, hopping up on the barricade, sipping from Dean's water bottle.

"What thing?" They both ask at the same time.

"Flirting." Nikki jokes. They laugh.

Roman rolls into the ring, "We gonna do this or nah?" He asks, he should be getting in some practice before they have to split off for the night.

He finds JoJo wandering the hallway later, when he's on his way to get showered and ready for the pay-per-view. He needs to get into the right mentality to face and defeat a game AJ Styles.

JoJo beams at him, taking his hand and dragging him down the hallway. It's a new development — the handholding — but he's not in any rush to make it stop so he doesn't say anything about it.

"Where'd you go, Joes?" He asks her. He never calls her JoJo. That's his daughter's name and he'd feel really weird about using the same nickname to refer to his kid and the woman he's in love with. So he made one up. He's never told her the reason behind it and she doesn't ask him about it. He's the only one who calls her something different. It's been years since he's actually called her JoJo or Joseanne. It's been years since the last time she noticed it.

She smiles at him, turning to hold both his hands as she walks backwards. "I had to talk to Mark about something."

"Oh, you're not 'bout to tell me?" he purses his lips, pretending to be annoyed, "So that's what we do — We keep secrets now?" He tries to keep a straight face but when she grins he turns to putty.

She rolls her eyes at him, "Oh shut up, you brat-" she's cut off when he's lifting her off the ground, tossing her over his shoulder. Her shrieks startle people around them, but no one moves to save her because it's her and Roman. And everyone can see how much he loves her.

He claps his palm on her butt, smirking to himself when she exclaims, "What was that?" He asks, lifting his hand to slap his hand on her butt again, but she shrieks.

"Put me down!" JoJo whines, halfheartedly beating her hands on his back. She could easily wiggle her way down, but where's the fun in that?

"You sure?" He asks, buckling, pretending to drop her.

"Roman!" She cries, holding her hands to her face. "Reigns, I swear to god. I'll tell you if you put me down." Pause, he doesn't budge, "Nigga put me down!" He tosses her overhead and catches her bridal style, giving her a lopsided grin. She laughs, her head falls back and she closes her eyes. "I hate you, I swear."

"Yeah, yeah." He sets her on her feet and wraps his arms over his shoulder, waddling like a big, burly penguin as she walks with her back pressed to his chest. "So tell me."

"Nope!"

And then she's running away, her ombré curls blow behind her as she disappears down the hallway. He stays planted in his spot because she usually comes back around the corner to peek at him. Then she usually asks him if he can still have fun at his age — the ripe old age of thirty. Then he's supposed to tell her that adults don't play tag.

It's quite complicated — that exchange. And she's not back to participate.

When he finds her again, she's staring up at Seth like she could kill him. And then her hand reaches back and whips forward. She punches Seth right in his jaw, so hard it hurts her hand. And then Seth lunges forward, trying to grab her. Roman barrels ahead, grabbing his ex-best friend by the collar of his black t-shirt.

Seth is wide eyed, but tries to recover. Roman slams him into the wall — hard. "Don'tchu ever — in the rest of your life — touch her again."

Seth struggles and Roman is vaguely aware that JoJo has pressed herself between them. She pushes Roman back.

Seth's laugh is still as obnoxious as they both remember it. "What, you her _dad_ now?" The blond patch in his hair is gone completely, Roman reaches out to swat where the bleached hair used to be, wanting to snatch him completely bald, but JoJo pushes him with all her might. He doesn't budge but she gets his attention.

"Don't worry about what I am to her, a'ight? Don't think about her at all." Roman points at the younger man, his hand upturned in the shape of an L. It nearly sounds like he's snarling. But he's completely calm — which scares JoJo for Seth even more.

"You think you're so tough, don't you?" Seth presses, reaching over JoJo's shoulder to push his palm against Roman's jaw, effectively whipping the larger man's face away. "You're the man? You get my championship, and now you think you can have my girl?" Seth is digging himself into his own damn grave. JoJo is offended that he's talking about her like he is — likening her to a championship — like she's a prize to be won.

People have collected around them, notably, Mark Carrano — ready to report someone to those above him on the payroll.

Roman moves forward, lunging at Seth. She hears a slew of angry curses when she's pressing herself to him. "Can we go please?" He doesn't look at her. She presses her palm to his face, moving herself into his space, stepping on his foot gently to get him to take a step back. She sends a glare over her shoulder at Seth as he stands there looking so calm; Like he wasn't being one big instigator. She rubs her thumb against Roman's stubbly beard. "Please, you have a match tonight. Don't make it your last, not over him."

He huffs, letting her take his hands. He glares at the people who have congregated around the scene. He rarely, genuinely, gets angry. But when it's JoJo — the one other person, besides him and Dean, who's been exposed to Seth's toxicity — she's been through enough. And the bastard was going to hit her.

He takes a deep breath and let's her lead him away.

They don't talk for the rest of the time before she has to take her seat at ringside to act as the announcer for the night. But he's holding her hand, letting her rest her chin on his shoulder. It's comforting to be able to just sit in silence with someone.

She has to go, so he lets her. He wants to apologize to her for putting her in harm's way in that hallway but he can't find the right words. She's out the door before he can really wrap his head around the situation.

—

Nikki stands by the curtain with Dean, waiting for Roman. "Good luck." Nikki grins. She's in her gear — prepared for her match — smirking at him. "Give me something to follow." The Women's Championship match is the main event for the first time ever.

"You know it." Roman smirks at her, hitting his fist against hers and then Dean's — who's sweaty from his match against Cesaro.

His music hits and he adjusts the title on his shoulder as he soaks in all the boos the crowd echo around him — recently, their hatred from him is fuel because he's tired of them. He's a monster, a bad ass, the man. He's going to demolish AJ. And they'll secretly enjoy it.

Then he sees her. And the monster is just a man, a very flustered man.

JoJo is wearing a Roman Empire t-shirt and dark wash jeans. Her heels are a ridiculous height. He forgets where he is for a second. He's caught off guard — _is she allowed to do this?_ — he's sure he's broken character because she's smiling at him, virtually ignoring a very confused AJ Styles, referee, and everyone in attendance at the All-State Arena. Then it clicks, she was asking Mark if this would be okay earlier when she disappeared.

"The following match is for the WWE World Heavyweight Championship!" She smiles wide. The confusion seems to wear off for everyone else, they cheer in anticipation. She introduces AJ first, a sneer obvious on her face. Then she's introducing him. He's so enamored, he barely remembers to play to the crowd. He gathers himself long enough to muster up a cocky look and raises his nose to the crowd.

When he wins, he grins. AJ gave him a run for his money — despite all the shittalking he'd done — his opponent wanted his championship— but no one gets up from a spear. He rolls out of the ring, mid official announcement of his name. The look on his face is serious, and everyone is dead silent when he approaches JoJo. He can hear Michael Cole and Jerry both arguing over his attentions. JBL is telling him to leave JoJo alone. She looks scared for a moment when the serious expression doesn't drop from Roman's face. He pulls her into his arms, and she shakes with relief. The hug is short, but it means more.

She wanted to be the one person who was on his side when no one else was — Dean and Nikki don't count. He kisses the very corner of her mouth. She's shocked and the commentary table is silent. He holds his title above his head and is gone up the ramp before anyone says anything.

"What. Was. That?" Dean asks as soon as Roman passes the curtain.

"Nothing." The Samoan shrugs, smiling.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Dean asks. Nikki stays quiet, she stretches, preparing to make history against Charlotte. Dean squeezes her hand to ask for support but she says nothing.

Roman grabs a water, "She was wearing my shirt, I couldn't not acknowledge her." Dean doesn't want Roman to love JoJo. He's fine with their friendship, but more than that was… more.

"You kissed her!" Dean hisses, crossing his arms. "Seth is gonna be pissed, you idiot!" Not that he cares about their ex friend, but Jesus, the idiot would make it his mission to target Roman.

"One." Roman places his championship on a nearby table, holding up his thumb, "Lower your voice." Then he raises his index finger, "And two, fuck Seth."

Dean sighed frustratedly, dragging his fingers through his hair, "Do you understand that this girl will be the end of you?"

"I understand." Roman laughs, shrugging, "Completely. But — thing is, I don't care."


	2. One

The loss stings. It hurts even. But that's not what gets him. It's how, and knowing it's because he's being punished. Granted, he did fuck up, but he was suspended and that should be enough. But he doesn't complain. Not outright. But anyone with a brain — anyone who can see him — knows he's pissed. Being pinned always grates on his nerves a little bit, conceding in that way. But it's his job, so that's fine. He says that to himself as he's walking past the curtain, holding his head.

And then the Smackdown roster walks passed him, superstar by superstar, and it takes everything in him to not roll his eyes. Because of course they'll milk the hell out of this and he'll have to deal with being the one pinned on his night back. Great. Seth won't shut up about it, ever.

He's bitter. So bitter. But Dean deserves a title run, so he swallows down his contempt for the circumstances.

But _jesus_ , he's irritated. More at himself than anything else, kicking himself because he just had to go and take that damn adderall, it's been on his mind for the last thirty days. He doesn't even know why he did it. Because he knew he'd get caught. He knew that. But he did it anyway. He handed WWE fans a way to shame him for the rest of time. And his name being dragged through the mud on a nightly basis with no way for him to defend himself, that was fun too. He thought that if he kept quiet, he'd make it easier on himself but no, that didn't happen. The WWE universe is unforgiving most of the time.

Maybe that's what sucks the most out of the whole ordeal — handing his haters and detractors a reason to be assholes. WWE will use anything for ratings, so of course they'd use his suspension as a storyline and his name as the joke. Ironic, considering they want to push him as the face of the company but then making him the laughingstock to the fans. Roman Reigns, biggest name since John Cena. He actually cringes just thinking about how bad that sounds, even to him. But oh well, he knows he can't change what happened. There's not going to be a repeat.

He'd like to move on. But as he walks down the hallways and he can't help but notice the stares and the judgey looks people are giving him. So moving on is out for the time being. It's unfortunate but he doesn't really mind if no one likes him, it's just a nuisance he'd rather not deal with. Someone is still signing his paychecks.

Roman doesn't want to be that guy, the guy who's only in it for the money, but God, people are so good at sucking the joy out of things.

Backstage politicking has never been something he's been a fan of. But he's managed to find himself smack dab in the middle of a controversial issue. Of all the things to come into question, his ability to do his job is something even Vince McMahon himself is questioning. And Triple H has made it clear, he's teetering on the edge of not liking him. Stephanie McMahon called him a disgrace on national television. All over some adderall. Which is funny to him, considering the other shit that goes on backstage that no one seems to pay attention to. But that's none of his business.

Roman stops when he sees two backstage hands staring at him like he's killed someone. He stands up straighter, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw. "You two got a problem?" He asks before he can really think about what he could be doing to himself. He doesn't need drama. He just got back. His resolve falters but he keeps his expression neutral. The two backstage hands just look at him for a moment before they glance at each other and then decide that walking away is their best bet at making it out of this situation as two, whole people. He grunts, "Assholes."

"Well, that certainly was interesting." He closes his eyes in exasperation, turning when he hears the gruff voice he knows well. Dean. The championship is around Dean's waist, he's holding a half empty water bottle, and there's a white hand towel around his neck. Dean flashes a smile at his friend, but stays standing in his place.

"If by interesting, you mean, annoying, then yeah." Roman rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. Dean just looks at him for a moment, like he's trying to figure out what to say so things aren't awkward between them. "What do you want, man? I'm tired. I just wanna grab my shit and go back to my hotel."

Dean groans, "Ah, don't be like that friend." The champ smirks, walking up to him, tossing his arm over Roman's shoulder, shaking him roughly. Roman takes Dean's hand and moves his arm from his shoulder. Dean laughs, opening his water bottle, tossing the cap over his shoulder. "So… no to drinks later with me, then?" He downs the rest of his water, tossing that bottle next.

Dean hasn't lost his touch. His ability to just deal with Roman's attitude always kind of makes the aforementioned attitude fade a little bit. That doesn't mean Roman is going to agree to drinks. Things between him and his best friend have been awkward. Really awkward. And Roman would like to say that it hasn't been there for long, but he knows that would be a lie. It would be a very big lie.

"Ding ding ding, ya got it." Roman answers sarcastically. He really doesn't feel like schlepping to a bar, and then sitting with them as they share their stupid jokes and get drunk.

Dean opens his mouth to say something, but the flat look Roman has on his face gets him to change his mind. He gives him a knowing smirk, which just makes Roman shake his head good naturedly because he knows Dean thinks he has other plans, but he doesn't. "Good night man, take a few shots for me and... pretend like I'm there." He turns on his heel and walks away. He hears Dean chuckle and then he assumes his friend makes the next logical step and decided to walk off. He doesn't look back.

He pushes into the empty male superstar locker room, heading straight for his stuff. He should probably shower, but always preferred to shower in his hotel room, especially when he's planning on going to bed right after. Then again, he feels gross and needs to shower. He throws his hair up into a bun — which he's way too good at doing really — and then unzips his tactical vest. He opens his gym bag and grabs his body wash and a towel.

He showers quickly, just getting clean is enough. He feels refreshed and not as cranky as he had been before. He wraps his towel around his waist, and starts to rifle through his gym bag for clothes. He dresses in a loose sleeveless shirt, sweatpants. And of course, to complete his I don't give a single fuck outfit he puts on his socks and Nike slides.

Roman makes sure he as all of his things, pocketing his phone and car keys, zips up his bag, and heads for the door. His timing couldn't have been better, because as he steps into the hallway, there's a large group of his co workers headed to the locker room to collect their things. He walks a little faster to avoid them, to get past them without garnering any attention. He's a nice guy and all — at least he tries to be — but he really has had enough interaction with people for the one night.

He heads for the back exit of the arena, intending to slip out unnoticed. He manages to make it out without incident, for which he's very grateful because if he had to do an interview about his match, he'd have lost it.

But of course, the universe has other plans for what he's doing with the rest of his night. And when he really thinks about it, he doesn't mind much when he sees her.

She's changed out of the sinful green and black dress she was wearing earlier. He had a really hard time focusing on anything when she was standing next to him in the ring earlier. Her blond frosted curls are up in a bun that matches his — he's always thinking they should stop doing that, matching — and she's in whitewash, jean shorts and a black t-shirt that's too big for her. She's leaning on the hood of his rental, her ankles crossed, one flip flop on while the other is being used as a barrier between her toes and the concrete.

They haven't talked since before he was suspended and for a moment, guilt washes over him. They'd done _things_ , and he shouldn't have just disappeared on her without a word. He feels like they've ruined their chances at staying friends.

He thought about her, thought about calling, and just never did. He'd been angry about his stupid actions that he ended up leaving her high and dry. He still loves her — those feeling don't just end after a month — but he's fully prepared for her to tell him that she hates him.

Maybe she doesn't mind.

He asks himself how could he possibly be dumb enough to think that she doesn't care that he just picked up and left for four weeks. But she's standing by his rental — consumed by something on her phone — waiting for him. It crosses his mind that maybe he shouldn't approach her in case she's not actually waiting for him and she's got the wrong SUV. But then again he's pretty damn sure her group of friends are gone. So then he thinks that it's really possible that she's about to go off when she sees him.

Roman decides to bite the bullet and actually approach his car. She looks up from her phone and they make eye contact. His breath gets caught in his throat when she just stares at him. She beams, her teeth are white as ever.

He remembers why he thinks that Joseanne fucking Offerman is going to be the death of him.

Yup. He's done for. He's _been_ done for.

"Hey." He says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He should apologize right about now, but what he has left of his pride — which is a lot apparently — won't let him.

She approaches him, closing the distance between them, her smile faltering a bit because she's nervous. Her breath catches at the sight of him so up close. That _beard_. And his muscles. And she wants to cry. _When did he get so… Thick… When did his eyes get so clear?_ She's supposed to be telling him something, something important. But she can't get a word out. He stares down at her, wondering what she's about to do. Because one of two things could happen 1) she kills him in the parking lot, or 2) she _could fucking kill him in this parking lot_. Yes, he's slightly terrified of a 5'2 woman, but it seems logical because she is someone who could get bat-shit crazy if she gets mad. And as of late, he's been pissing _everybody_ off. And if anyone has the right to be mad at him, it's Joseanne Offerman.

She looks at him like she has something to say. Like she's overjoyed to see him, and then it disappears and she looks determined to say what she wants to say. But that falters too.

What she does shocks the hell out of him and for a second he thinks he's imagining the whole damn thing. JoJo grabs him by the front of his shirt, crumpling up the neckline in her fist, and yanks his face toward hers. Standing on her toes, she closes the distance between their faces and kisses him soundly on the mouth.

Needless to say, his brain short circuits. It's one interesting hello. A hello he doesn't deserve.

It takes him a few seconds to respond — he's that shocked by how bold she is — but when he does realize what's happening, he wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Jojo's barely touching the ground, but she doesn't care at all. All composure is lost. She wraps her arms around his shoulders as he backs her up toward the SUV, bracing one hand on the driver's side door. He forgot how good of a kisser she is… But before he can really get the chance to enjoy the moment a little more, someone is behind them, clearing their throat.

He groans in frustration, having a feeling he knows exactly who it is behind them, and Jojo laughs as they reluctantly pull apart. They make eye contact and she scratches her fingers in his beard. He braces his hands in the SUV, turning his head to look at his friend — effectively shielding Jojo so she can adjust her clothes and compose herself. "Dean… fuck man, _what_!?"

Dean stands there with his arms crossed, like a smug idiot, "I knew you hadn't left yet."

"I was going too." Roman argues. "Can't you be done ruining things for me tonight?" Jojo and Dean laugh at him, outright. And his face deadpans. He remembers what Dean thinks about the development between him and JoJo. Dean isn't too high on the idea.

"Hey Jo." Dean waves at the very flustered young woman clutching at Roman's tattooed bicep. He calls her Jo because it's what he used to call her when she dates Seth she doesn't realize he's being mean, but Roman does

"Hiiii…" She drags out the greeting, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth to keep from laughing at the beyond annoyed look on Roman's face. He'd be unable to hide it even if he wanted to.

"I so knew he was ditching me because- "

"She attacked me." Roman jokes, but his voice is even as he's eying the short woman, finally turning to face Dean. He's still thinking about what would happen if he decided to punch him in the face for interrupting them — for being fake — but refrains.

"Hey!" She cuts in, offended, "I did not attack you, you liar!" she scrunches her face and it takes everything in Roman to not laugh at her. He puts his arm on the top of her head, sticks his other hand in the pocket of his sweats. And it's like they're friends again and all is well.

She pushes his arm off the top of her head, and crosses her arms. Roman rolls his eyes, and grabs her by the waist, drawing her in. She squeals.

For two people who haven't even spoken in a month, they sure are comfortable around each other. It's partially because they were just making out, and that she's just so damn attractive that he has no problem ignoring that they should talk about what the hell they're doing. They'd taken a giant step from friends to more and then he just disappeared. He looks at her and remembers how much he's missed her.

Dean looks like he wants to vomit and like he's struggling to not say something inappropriate. Roman can see that he's actually weighing the pros and cons of what he's about to say. And then he smiles. "What're you doing tonight Joseanne?"

Roman narrows his eyes, staring at Dean. The champion, and Mr. Mischief himself crosses his arms across his chest and grins at his best friend. JoJo looks up at Roman, then back at Dean, shrugging, "Nothing?"

"Wanna drag Roman to a bar with me and Randy?"

She takes Roman's hand in both of hers, and smiles at him. He rolls his eyes, "No."

"Yes." She nods, "You need to have fun…"

There's something wrong with her smile — like it's hiding something else — and he can see the difference immediately.

"I can have fun in my hot— "

"Gross dude." Dean cuts in, making the pair stare at him. If looks could kill, he'd drop dead from the way Roman is glaring at him.

"Please?" JoJo smiles at Roman .

"Socializing sounds exhausting…"

She looks at him with her brown eyes and he can feel his resolve slip away. And he can't say no. Epecially after the way she was just all over him. And if he's honest, getting drunk to forget how shitty his night was going earlier, doesn't sound like that bad of an idea.

His shoulders slump and she knows she's won. Just like she always did before he was suspended.

"Fine. But I'm going in these clothes." Roman says. Dean smirks as Roman glares at him, blinking slowly. Roman retrieves his keys from his pocket. And when Dean doesn't move from where he's standing, he knows something is up, "You needa ride, dontcha?" He opened Joseanne's door for her, taking her hand and helping her up into the seat.

Dean bites his thumbnail, nodding, "Uh-huh, yup."

* * *

 ** _AN: Roman being back has given me inspiration, guys. Though, I don't know how long it'll stay._** ** _I'm trying my hand at something I haven't done before, with this new pairing I'm kind of obsessed with right now._**

 ** _This takes place about two months after the prologue. And don't worry, the jump in the stage of Roman and JoJo's relationship will clear up as the story goes. I promise._**


End file.
